


Destiel Poetry

by My_people_skills_are_rusty777



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Human Castiel, M/M, POV Castiel, POV Dean Winchester, destiel poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-13 12:24:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11185074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_people_skills_are_rusty777/pseuds/My_people_skills_are_rusty777
Summary: Just some Destiel poetry I wrote a while ago that I thought I'd share.





	1. Broken Man

My dear how I've loved you,  
But you could never love me,  
I'm a shell of a man, at best,  
There was never room for three.  
I would have followed you anywhere,  
Indeed, I still would,  
But I don't believe you'd want me there,  
I'm never any good.  
Time after time you tell me,  
That we are family,  
You mean it as in brothers,  
That's good enough for me.  
If I could hold your hand,  
My life would be complete,  
But I do not dare wish for that,  
For it could never be.  
So I am going to keep you close,  
For as long as I can,  
All I ask is forgiveness for,  
The sins of a broken man.


	2. September 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was written for the Destiel anniversary, September 18.

Eyes as green as emeralds,  
Meet ones as blue as the sea,  
Oh darling how you never knew,  
How much you meant to me.  
A world away but on this day,  
Two lovers meant to be,  
Would meet and fall and start it all,  
Not blind but cannot see.  
They say "good things do happen",  
But not for either of us,  
It seems as though I'm losing,  
But the worst loss is your trust.  
Through heaven, hell, and Earth,  
I'd follow you anywhere,  
But sometimes it almost seems,  
Like you don't want me there.  
I've told you many times,  
That you're my family,  
But maybe you just don't belong,  
Down here on Earth with me.  
I'm blinded by grace and beauty,  
You're an Angel from above,  
What good are all my praises,  
When you don't need my love?  
On this cold September day,  
I guess I'll sit alone,  
Wishing after all these years,  
That you would call my phone.


End file.
